


Experimental Files

by Sasskarian



Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Drabble, Experimental Style, F/M, M/M, Voiceverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-23
Updated: 2018-01-30
Packaged: 2019-03-08 14:51:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13460547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sasskarian/pseuds/Sasskarian
Summary: a collection ofexperimentalideas related to Khirsahle's VoiceVerse.





	1. And Still

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [By Any Other Name](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7566736) by [delazeur](https://archiveofourown.org/users/delazeur/pseuds/delazeur), [Khirsah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Khirsah/pseuds/Khirsah). 



> this particular drabble began because i asked
> 
> [Khirsah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Khirsah/pseuds/Khirsah)
> 
> if the implications of a solas/lavellan bond in Voiceverse had ever been explored, and i have since been working with Khirsah and the other authors in the Voiceverse circles to explore this particular (and angsty) plot bunny. this was my first foray into it, so if you haven't read Voiceverse, here be spoilers. 
> 
> this is an experimental file to house drabbles and meme prompts. this is by no means canon nor is it even what the final product of any Voiceverse-inspired fic of mine will be.
> 
> Voiceverse Canon:
> 
> [By Any Other Name](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7566736)
> 
> [Fire, Walk with Me](http://archiveofourown.org/works/762011)
> 
> Voiceverse Spinoffs:
> 
> [Part of Your World](http://archiveofourown.org/works/9857108)

***

The way you said “i love you” #20 - As we huddled together, the storm raging outside

***

“You should rest.” 

Solas’ eyes opened in the dark of the cave, unerringly finding Iveani. Not that he needed to see to find her– the girl’s presence fairly  _crawled_  along his skin, and each move, each  _breath_ , tuned every last nerve in his body towards her like a flower seeking the sun. Lightning struck just outside the mouth of the cave and she jumped, pressing herself further back into the slope of the roof.

“Like hell I should,” she murmured, pulling her knees up to her chest and curling her arms around them; the protective righteousness on her face was ruined by a jaw-cracking yawn. “We’re going to avenge my family and bring justice back to Wycome.” 

Seeing her sitting folded in on herself, hair lank and bedraggled and curling around the delicate points of her ears reminded him of a half-forgotten memory.

She’d sat much the same way when she’d hidden in his tomb in the Fade, illuminated by the memory-lights of Arlathan and that everywhere-at-once light that marked the dreamlands instead of by lightning. His palm burned with the memory of kneeling in front of her, small face cupped in his hand– so warm, so  _alive_ , he’d known immediately she was no spirit. How frightened she’d looked, a small ghost with eyes that had all but sunk him into their depths. Eyes he hadn't seen since his great mistake.

He tried again, some uneasy feeling battering his heart; he wished he’d found an excuse to stay with Taran and Dorian instead of leading the Lavellans back to Wycome. “We have a ways until we reach Jader, still.” A scoff came from across the cave, a shudder on the heels of it as thunder rolled over them in waves. “The Inquisition already protects these lands. We should be safe enough here.”

“Save your concern, Solas,” Iveani said, sounding tired and gentle, her chin resting on her knees. He tried not to notice the way she shivered, unwilling to even call a spell to warm herself, and rolled his eyes. His luck any soulmate of his would turn out stubborn and too self-sacrificing for her own good. Not that she  _was_ his soulmate. Just some... some mistake. Some long-lost memory of a ghost city long since swallowed up by his own arrogance and an immovable forest. That was all she was, all she could be. All he could let her be. And still.

“I will not,” he bit out, trying to make his move across the uneven floor smooth; his soldier’s grace appeared long fled, though, because halfway through, he introduced his forehead to a sharp overhang. The only thing that stopped him from swearing was the quickly-smothered snort of amusement from the girl and the yawn hidden behind her hand as he settled beside her.

There was no pulling away physically as he solemnly unwound the mantle from his shoulder and draped it across her, but he felt the way her spirit quaked and pulled in on itself even as she buried her fingers in the fur.

Questions burned on his tongue, unasked. Unaskable.

_Do I frighten you so much,_  perhaps. Or,  _you knew what I was the moment my magic touched you._  Or even, absurdly,  _where is your spark?_

He could feel it, knew it was there. Under the calm face, past the swirling pool of mana in his chest, something in her  _called_  to him, echoed in the lost part of his heart. Something that twinkled like the crystal spires of Arlathan, and felt shy and small, the first glowing green shoot of spring peeking above the snow.

When he’d ripped the Veil into being, sent it crashing down to divide this world and the dreamland, he’d had no idea that what had been purely Elvhen would pass to humans and Qunari. That an echoing, dreadful empty space in his heart would ripple across the world and create a system of magic, of belonging and partnership, that connected the fade-touched and the mundane.

But feeling Iveani slowly relaxing into the warmth his furs offered her– and how he  _tried_  not to think about the symbolism of her clutching a fistful of wolf fur, how he tried and  _failed_ – he almost couldn’t regret it. Almost.

Aidan Hawke’s bond burned brightly, loud and joyful and so painfully right, as it wound through the Fade, as it connected Voice and Mage. He’d seen the strands crisscrossing time and distance, watched as the last of the Dreamers wandered paths his feet had known long ago. He’d watched as Taran’s eyes went soft when his Mage was near, when that bond hummed between them even before it had slid into place, solid and golden.

Iveani’s head hit his shoulder and he almost started, shocked out of his memories– and self-loathing– for a moment. She’d finally fallen asleep, somewhere between the angry shouts of thunder, and Solas allowed himself a small smile. He knew, and well, that allowing affection to grow instead of ripping it out like a weakness would hurt all the more in the end.

And still.

Her forehead brushed the side of his neck as Iveani shifted and for the first time in centuries, his heart stilled. Putting the feeling to words was impossible– that brief brush of skin on skin seeped sunlight into him, gleaming and bright and  _warm_  and how long had it been since he’d felt  _warm_? How could this child contain an echo of that which he had loved, and then lost?

And still. And  _still_ , that song called to him, wound through the Fade even when she was far away from him in Skyhold. It was the same song that had slithered into his tomb ahead of a limping, frightened elven child who sounded like his lost home and Fadewalked as only the Dreamers could. How his old friend would be cackling to herself now, feeling him trying to fight against the riptide pull of his… his Voice.

His home.

Slowly, carefully, Solas adjusted them so her head rested against his chest and she was less likely to wake with a sore neck. His breath stuttered for a moment when she– in sleep or in dream and did it really matter which?– curled their hands together with a sigh. Something splintered in his chest at the sound, and he couldn’t say for sure whether it was the last break in his ancient heart, or a new fracture just for her, but–

“Ar lath,” fell from his lips, lost somewhere in the damp tangle of her hair, and he almost didn’t hate himself for telling her as she slept, “ma vhen’an.”


	2. Fadelight

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _Something was coming. She didn’t know what, or who, or how, but_ something _was stalking the Fade like a cat scenting a rat._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> so, if we're thinking that this particular voiceverse piece is canon, this would be happening concurrently as [Chapter 8](http://archiveofourown.org/works/7566736/chapters/25241580) of By Any Other Name by [Khirsah](http://archiveofourown.org/users/Khirsah/pseuds/Khirsah).

***  
Something dark, something  _evil,_  swept through Iveani. It washed over her with the fierce raging of thunder, cold and bitter as a Free Marches snowstorm. The taste of malice scored the wind, an ancient threat given life and force, and right before she could climb to her feet, the ground of the Fade rippled under her. Stumbling, she caught herself on the side of a cliff face that sprang from nowhere and went as high as she could see, hissing as the sharp rock ground into her palm. Her neck craned backward as the ground rippled again, the path before her fading and reforming in quick succession.

 _This way,_  something whispered, tugging at her.  _Come and see._

Behind her, bursts of green Fadelight flared, the sickly color of the Raw Fade, the land without dreams or guidance, where lost souls wandered. Where  _He_  wandered. Shivering, Iveani ducked around the cliff, following the urging of her guide. Wisps darted before her, remnants of emotion lingering behind them like the trails of falling stars. Here, a burst of childish giggles; there, a mad cackle. A shuddering, nausea-like sensation bloomed in her chest as she ducked into a crumbling white archway plucked from someone’s dreams and left to languish. Vines curled around her shoulders and she batted them away impatiently, everything in her curling up tight with fear.

Something was coming. She didn’t know what, or who, or how, but  _something_  was stalking the Fade like a cat scenting a rat.

Just as she started to summon a handful of sparks to drive the vines off, a foolish notion in any part of the Fade, let alone where the Dreamers’ Fade and the Raw Fade bled together, a howl echoed through the land. Joined instantly by other shrieks, shadows and half-wights drifted along the shores, fading into view. In all her years of wandering the Fade, following the whispers at the edge of her mind, never had she seen demons materialize without someone calling to them. Heart beating a staccato, she ground her hands together, eyes squeezed shut to the point of tears gathering along her lashes.

 _NOW IS THE HOUR OF OUR VICTORY._  

The voice boomed across the Fade, a hair-raising  _evil_  left in its wake. 

“Come on, come on.” Iveani bounced on her toes, anxious and so  _cold_  as she fought to find the way out of this nightmare _._ Her every instinct said that drawing the attention of that voice, if it were even possible, would be a death sentence, but being trapped in the Fade with a slowly-growing mass of demons and spirits alike could be just as bad. She had to find the way out, the way to wake– 

 _KEEP THE SACRIFICE STILL_  

…sacrifice? “Oh,  _fenhe–_ ” 

“Someone,  _help me!_ ” A new voice called out, strung tight and high with terror. 

A man’s voice answered, so different from either the woman crying out in pain or the… the  _creature_  somehow bridging the Fade with reality. “What’s going on here?” he demanded, sounding so confident, so sure of himself, that Iveani stilled and felt her heart bolstered just knowing that somewhere, wherever this impossible thing was happening, whoever this man was would  _make it right._  Like a sunflower reaching towards the heavens, her gift spooled out towards his voice– here, in the Fade, manifesting as glittering tendrils of mana. 

“No!” she hissed, swiping her hands through them frantically. The magic resisted, clinging to her fingers stubborn and straining towards that voice, but last thing she needed was– 

 _NO!_  

Accompanying the thundering voice, great fissures ruptured around her hiding spot, green light streaking upward as they gathered into a roiling cloud. A wave of raw sound— howls, cries,  _pleas_ — rolled over her, forcing her to her knees. Iveani clapped her hands over her ears, losing her own scream among the agony thundering through the Fade. All caution, all her hard-won lessons about walking the Fade, vanished into the back of her mind under the need to simply ride out the explosion and  _survive_. 

*** 

When she came to, the alcove she’d hidden in had dissolved into a pile of glittering sand, whatever power that had held the dream together sucked away. The sky above her now swirled, clouds of noxious, poisonous-looking green coalescing around a great  _rip._  Ringed by Fadelight, she could feel the mass of frightened spirits and eager demons pressing against that scar, chaotic and vain in their attempts to escape.

As she watched, the remnants of dreams around her crumbled, revealing the ugly truth of the Raw Fade in their wake. In the corner of her eye, she saw the candle-lights of other mages and dreamers winking out as they woke in panic– and something huge and  _terrible_ , some Presence she couldn’t bear to look at, slowly settling over this patch of Fade.  
  
“Whatever just happened,” she whispered, struggling to wake herself up, “is going to destroy the world.”  
  
***


End file.
